


Something borrowed, something new

by StrayLupum



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) RPF, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Apples, Attempt at Humor, Flirting, Gavin Reed is a Little Shit, Gavin is always Gavin, Gavin is not a typical witch, Gift Fic, Gift Work, Inquisition, M/M, Memory Loss, Mythology References, Not Serious, Russian Mythology, Short, Slavic mythology, Spells & Enchantments, Strange Flirting, Vampire!Nines, Vampires, Witcher!AU, Witches, welp a bit of adventure i guess, when was he typical at all, witch!Gavin, witchers are too corrupt here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26795212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrayLupum/pseuds/StrayLupum
Summary: When the fires of the Inquisition burns your ass, you'll agree to any chance to get away from the dangerous place.Gavin Appleseed wouldn't be a witch if he misses an opportunity to gain as many profits as possible from his own wounded chance to get to a safer land.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Something borrowed, something new

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terminallydepraved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/gifts).



> This work is a great thanks and happy bday grats to Terminallydepraved (@tdcloud_writes on twitter) who inspired me a lot, and thanks to her I gathered all my courage and strength to write in English at all.  
> Her works are amazing! You have to read them if you didn't!
> 
> Pls, enjoy ^^ The Witcher AU was also discovered only when I saw it amidst Terminallydepraved 's fics, so... there's a reason I decided to create this gift as a DBH witcher au xD

The afternoon’s air was thick and sweet, concentration of the sun heat had reached the peak a couple of hours ago, and now every breath tasted like the strongest syrup-sweet Toussaint wine. Flowers and heavy fruits bent down in a wordless request to pick them and never leave in the forest where nobody could enjoy the summer gifts, the gifts of Dana Meadbh, the Queen of the Fields.

It was a day when every single creature able to appreciate the gracious energy of nature stepped outside to sink in the gift of natural magic, to be embraced by the original, elemental essence of the power.

On this particular day Gavin the Appleseed was on his way to his house, with his bag full of apples and herbs, with his mind full of the delicious images of the evening rituals he was going to have experiments with.

His long free robes swished as he walked in the high grass with his staff in the left hand and with a book in the other. Thus, not really bothered by the details around, the witch didn’t notice changes appeared while he was absent.

“Bloody runes, what the hell?”

The bush of the plump black dewberry caught his attention right after the witch decided he could continue reading at home, with the newly brewed apple cider. At the height of the average man’s thigh, leaves of the bush were covered with dark red stains.

Blood.

And worst of all, Gavin realized as he turned his head to trace the blood spots along the way to his house, the wounded someone chose as a destination point Gavin’s new shelter.

Well, at least his combat magic would finally come in handy.

Gavin squeezed his staff tightly and, ready for anything, rushed forward, wanting only to be at home as fast as possible, to drive the intruder out and happily continue the day of the great summer solstice.

Tina wouldn't be happy if he was going to miss the celebration, though they were not able to meet the solstice together. The inquisition became furious as it’s influence grew and conquered the major part of the Northern Kingdoms. Gavin was about to leave this cursed land for the eternal summer of Nazair since he wasn’t fond of the cold at all, but Order of the Flaming Rose closed the borderlines and watched them carefully. They recruited lots of those witches who didn’t support the Lodge of Sorceresses, those who were not smart enough to have a power greed, but also those who were strong enough to participate in the witch hunt.

In a word, the total world was in the ass.

‘ _A mess!_ ’ Would have corrected his old friend and Astrology teacher, professor Fowler, but Gavin never liked those so-called ‘polite languages’. What’s the point if the world was already in flames, and nobody was going to be polite with non-human, especially with power users.

Witches were children of the Chaos, they said.

And Chaos was unnatural, that what the Church of the Flame claimed.

That was the reason Gavin tried to hide in the deep forests where even scoia'taels never came. It was the third or even fourth attempt to go further, to get away from the outer world and never hear the cry of a burning witch.

And he was going to protect his new home.

Just because he had no other acceptable option.

“Freeze! Hands up!”

The intruder froze up with his hand pressed to the wounded side, and the other already stretched forward to reach a knife on Gavin’s work desk.

It was a tall - a head higher than the witch - dressed in black leather frock coat, a simple crimson red tunic under it; high boots with silver buckles, and silver was the brooch of a hawk-moth on his coat. The male had pretty pale skin, well, obviously because of the blood loss - the puddle under his feet seemed enough for a little lizard to sink. His dark hair was combed back some time ago, but now several naughty strands stuck to the sweaty forehead.

Right side, a total mess, glistened as the unexpected guest shifted with a slight hiss of pain.

“Why of all -”

“I need your help.” Interrupting Gavin, the stranger shifted again and finally took the short-blade knife. Why did he need Gavin’s knife while having a pretty big one on his back? Just under his shoulder blade the scabbard of the hard dark-with-silver leather distinguished. “The Flaming Rose will be here soon.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Kurwa.” Loudly, slowly and savouring the understanding of the stranger’s words. Gavin forced the magic thunder curling around the head of his staff to disappear. He also felt the magic lightning left his eyes, the pale grey of the smooth river stone remained when he looked back at his guest. “You’ve showed them a path to my fucking house! To the house of a witch! Why the hell I should help you?!”

His blue eyes hid something old, something yet unknown and old as mountains.

“I’m the best thief you can ever meet, witch.” With a new hiss, he did his best not to fall on his knees right in the blood lake on the floor. “Nines, my name is Nines. And… Would you finally be kind and help me please?”

Something was strange about this… How did he say that? Ninette? A detail, a brief guess flashed at the peripheral of the witch's mind, but the approaching sound of the hooves caught his attention.

Flaming Rose.

Cholera sting their asses!

The inquisition was the last thing Gavin wanted to see on his threshold.

“Kurwa.” He threw the word for the last time as if it could cancel the last minutes of his life when suddenly two gifts of the generous mistress Fortune fell on his head like horse shit. “I will deal with you later. And don’t you dare say anything or let them know someone’s inside. I’ll kill you with hundreds of the most turturable deaths, and you will burn in the hell of your own mind while -”

The long loud whistle from the outside killed the threatening effect, but Gavin hoped the wounded was smart enough to shut his mouth.

On the other side, if he died indeed, Gavin would have got one of the problems solved by itself, and that was a pretty attractive opportunity.

“...in the name of the Flaming Rose and the church of..!”

They knew the wounded was here.

Of course, they did, Gavin scolded and went outside, with the one hand above his head. Of course, this smartass left the pretty shouting bloody trail leading to Gavin’s fucking house!

Four horsemen of the church and four of the Rose knights were on foot.

Usually they never used groups of more than four to chase someone. But now, eight from the order… Kurwa. Gavin already forgot how long ago he needed to fight face to face.

“We are looking for a witch, or a druid, or a sorcerer, or any other inhuman creature!” One of the horsemen rode forward, so that his horse’s head appeared a few inches from Gavin's nose. What a barbarian! Had he heard about personal space? “Do you have any information about any of those? We saw the blood, it led us here.”

With a peripheral sight Gavin noticed four knights shifted making a circle.

Oh, the Chaos providence, why of all shitty days…

“Y’know, I don’t like any company.” No sharp movements, Gavin took an apple from his bag and gave it to the horse. “I saw the wounded guy. And I killed him. I don't like intruders. I’m a peaceful exile...”

The rush knocked Gavin off his feet. This rush was a body of endless joints and pointy, sharp claws, with long - few meters - whiskers and unbearably stinky mouth consisting of clicking mandibulas.

Loud cries around told him even people from the Flaming Rose knew pretty well what a dangerous thing was a chimaera.

But this particular one sometimes forgot about its own nature and the danger it brought to the world.

“Oh my… Stop! Stop! Fucking stop!” Since the poison inside the apple activated and the horse ate the fruit, Gavin now needed to dodge not only his pet’s joy, but also the attack of the angry church fanatics, the horse’s hooves and… “Fuck, stop! Eat ‘em, eat ‘em! Daddy’s good and they’re bad people, eat them, not me!”

With his mouth full of the warm dirt and dust, with the sand creaking between gritted teeth, Gavin couldn’t stop cursing the day of solstice and his greatest luck.

  
  


***

  
  


“You… You’ve created them?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you telling me you can’t control or destroy them?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Remind me: why do you actually find an idea of living with the creatures you can’t control as a brilliant one?”

Watching his creations ended their meal time and started crawling back to their hole deep under the house, Gavin tried to wipe the blood from his face off, especially from the eye zone, but the dry layers of the knights’ blood didn’t give up. His skin just ached when touched, and his eyes were sore because of the tiny pieces of soil and dried gore.

“I need to take a bath. Draw my bath.”

Nines - Ninnette - or whatever - rounded his eyes. But it didn’t actually bother Gavin at all. He wanted to get clean again, to put on fresh, new clothes and have a smell of the field flower, but not the scent of the fucking Flame knight, not the scent of his guts and semi-digested dinner.

His creatures never showed clean work, but nevertheless they also left no bone, no armor or weapon after having their meal. And every time Gavin’s own guts trembled and jumped and made various gymnastic tricks he himself wasn’t able to repeat.

He was afraid.

He was afraid as fuck every time he saw his chimaeras.

It was believed master Alzur himself could not control the creatures he invented and he died because of them! Gavin shouldn’t have to steal the spell, he just should have behaved and stayed a good Ban Ard student.

But what had Gavin said to his teachers when they announced there was a restricted area in the library?

It was _‘Uh-huh’_ and his greedy hands stealing precious ancient foliants.

“Me?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“A bath for you?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can’t you just use the magic?”

Again the answer was the same, but this time Gavim added a heavy glance and a painful poke into the center of the bandaged wound.

Hours later, already lying in the huge oak round bath, in fragrant water with flowers of lavender, dried cloudberries and some also sun-dried roots of the orpin rose, Gavin remembered some details his mind managed to catch. As soon as any sign of fatigue and the day stress went away, leaving the blissful feeling of the sweet relax combined with lazy curiosity, he could allow himself to behave more like a house owner.

And, actually, a life saviour.

Gavin stretched his arm out of the water to let the steam fly higher, to the low ceiling, where joists and rafters met.

“So, Ninnette?”

“Nines.” The man in the black clothes frowned again, obviously unsatisfied with the inability of the witch to remember his name. He was sitting in an old chair, smelling like a chest of dust and trying to carve with his own dagger. The piece of a birch was pretty young, and the wooden curls under his feet looked like the adorable strands of a golden-hair baby.

“Uh-huh.” Gavin closed his eyes, remembering. Details, facts, inconsistencies. After the Chaos itself, those were his natural elements. “The Order is hunting non-humans. Why did they chase you? Why did they hurt you at all? You say, you’re a mere thief? Why not throw you just in prison if they’ve already caught you?”

Nines’ hand with the dagger fixed, the blade deeply in the wood.

“I… I don’t know, to be honest.” Slowly, he lifted his head to meet grey witch’s eyes sparkling brightly even through the steam fog. Looking at them, he recalled the old vision, a short memory about the thunder clouds. One day he saw the lightning and those dangerous clouds so close… “Since you’re a witch, can I ask your help again? I can pay, whatever you want, whenever you want. You see, some time ago I lost my memory. I don’t remember anything except my name. And suddenly, I have incredibly good stealing skills. I can walk through various magical wards undetected.”

Gavin’s skin - Nines wasn’t sure about his own feelings about that - looked just perfect. No extra hair, as usual mortals had, no bruises or scratches, no moles and no birthmarks. Not _just_ a skin but some unnaturally brisk, living white marble.

“That’s interesting.” The witch stood tall, streams of hot water rushed down, along the body of the most perfect constitution. Broad shouldered, not too much and not too narrow, with thin waist, and elastic buttocks.

Nines discovered his thighs were tight and solid because the witch suddenly appeared sitting on his laps, watering his clothes with his wet bare skin.

Even despite the bath herb mix, Gavin smelled like a fresh young apple.

“So, you say, you remember nothing and suddenly a bunch of witch-and-all-non-human-hunters are hunting you down?” Gavin grinned, and tiny thunders in his eyes activated. “Let’s see what I can do for you.”

He whispered a spell to his fist, and when he blew, the magic pollen hurt Nines’ eyes.

“What the -”

Quick to fix his mistake, Gavin summoned his staff from the neighbour room and just smacked the thief’s head with it. The sound was nice and it convinced Gavin once more that old tricks worked better than the new ones.

Nines passed out, just as he planned.

Now, on his feet, Gavin found his silver dish and a special apple. When the fruit went round, along the circle edge of the dish, picking up its speed, the image of Tina became stable.

“Well-well, Appleseed. Having fun and troubles again?”

“Uh-huh.”

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, in my head the picture was funny and not serious at all, and i wanted to create sort of funny silly sketch.  
> and its goal is just to bring joy and smile, and i hope i succeed at least a bit :D
> 
> Also I want to explain the role of the apple and dish. Idk if there's any similar tales in other cultures, but in slavic there's a tale about silver dish and the young fresh apple. According to the tale, when this apple went along the dish edge, it showed the owner everything they wanted.  
> So, Gavin here is kinda a mix-image of Ivan-the-fool (risky, adventurous and always a lucky guy in russian folklore) and the apple-loving witch who can make all sorts of magic with apples x)


End file.
